


Catching Snowflakes

by bransch



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Bartender!Killian, Captain Swan January Joy, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Smut, drunk!emma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 22:00:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17434292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bransch/pseuds/bransch
Summary: Emma and Henry have just moved to Storybrooke from Tallahassee, and Emma is having a harder time adjusting than her son. She’d feel better about the cold weather if she could just see some friggin’ snow. She’d also feel better if she wasn’t so attracted to her neighbor, best friend, and local barman, Killian Jones.





	Catching Snowflakes

**Author's Note:**

> This is my story for @csjanuaryjoy and was based on the prompt I’m walking home from the bar and it’s snowing and you see me trying to catch snowflakes on my tongue. As a resident of North Florida, I still remember the first time I saw snow falling and how magical it looked. I thought that magic would be perfect for our favorite couple. 
> 
> Thanks to @shireness-says and @kmomof4 for being my betas. I love you both!

Emma walked into the Rabbit Hole and settled on a barstool in the far corner. Placing her clutch on the counter, she pulled off her coat and laid it next to her. By the time she looked up, her savior had arrived.

"Swan," he said with a smile, the lines around his eyes crinkling adorably.

"Jones," she responded, flashing him a small smile of her own.

"Rum and coke?" he asked, already turning to grab the bottle of her preferred spirit.

"No soda tonight. Just the rum, on the rocks."

"Rough night?" He finished preparing the drink and set it down in front of her.

"You have no idea."

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, leaning over and resting his hands against the bar. In doing so he gave her a tantalizing view of the thatch of chest hair peeking out from above the deep vee of his t-shirt. She picked up her drink and took a fortifying sip to distract herself from that line of thought. Killian Jones was _off limits_.

They'd met six months ago when she and her son Henry had moved into the apartment above his, after coming to Storybrooke, Maine, so Henry could be close to his newly discovered father. Before that, they'd lived in Tallahassee, Florida for the entirety of Henry's life.

Growing up in the foster system, Emma had never had anyone to rely on. When she met Neal, Henry's father, she'd fallen hard and fast. On a silly whim, they'd picked Tallahassee as the place they were going to settle down, which made her giddy with joy. She was a bright-eyed, naive seventeen year-old who'd thought she'd finally found her family.

Two days later she learned just how naive she'd truly been, when Neal set her up to take the fall for some jewelry he'd stolen. Because she had a piece of the stolen goods on her person (which he'd said was her engagement ring), she was arrested and charged with grand theft. Her sentence was six months jail time. They charitably released her just one month before Henry was to be born. Neal had disappeared in the wind. Emma had a faint hope that it had all been some big misunderstanding and that Neal was out there, somewhere, waiting for her. So, she scraped together enough money to get to Tallahassee, hoping one day he would find them.

Despite the unfavorable beginning, she'd been happy in Florida. After Henry was born, she met some truly good people who helped her get her life in order. These people became their support system. They helped her get a job, which led her to a career. She began as a secretary at the police department and worked her way up to deputy. She was able to cobble together a good life for herself and her son.

But their nice little bubble had begun to crack two years ago, when Neal made a reappearance in their lives. He was living in Maine, in a small town called Storybrooke where he'd apparently grown up, and found Emma on Facebook.

_"How could you never have told me I had a son, Emma?!"_

_"YOU left me, Neal! You abandoned me to serve time for a crime YOU committed. How was I supposed to find you when I was fresh out of jail with a newborn?!"_

Neal was chastened by her words. He backed off, but still insisted on being a part of their lives. He wanted them to move to Storybrooke to be closer, but Emma had refused. Their life was in Tallahassee. She couldn't just pick up and move.

That excuse had worked for about six months, but Neal kept pestering her. Then he convinced her to let Henry spend Christmas with him. Henry immediately fell in love with the town, but seeing snow had been what sealed the deal for him. He came home and talked about nothing other than how badly he wanted to live in Storybrooke.

Emma still insisted they stay put until she could find a job there. She refused to take any handouts from Neal. It took another year before she was able to secure a job as a deputy with the Storybrooke PD. The offer had come in the middle of a heat wave and the idea of moving to a cooler climate was extremely appealing. Emma still had reservations, but she decided to take a chance and accepted the job.

She was able to find an apartment - a large, industrial style open space with a loft area for Henry's bedroom. The place was owned by her new boss, the sheriff, David Nolan and his wife Mary Margaret. They'd lived there for several years before buying a large farm on the outskirts of town to accommodate their growing family. The building was an old warehouse Mary Margaret's family had owned which had been converted into a four-unit apartment building. The only other occupant currently was Emma's downstairs neighbor, Killian.

On they day they were moving in, she'd run into Jones - _literally_ run into him, while she was carrying a box full of kitchen equipment. The bottom obviously hadn't been taped up very well, and the collision had not only knocked them both the ground, but had broken the box, scattering her utensils and tupperware all over the entryway to the building.

_"Oh shit!"_ she yelled, already exhausted from the long drive and just ready to get the move over with.

_"Are you alright, love?"_ he'd asked, his smooth, crisp, accented voice sending chills up her spine. She'd looked up and almost had her breath taken away. He was a gorgeous man, with inky black hair, striking blue eyes, and a chiseled jawline. His facial hair was a few days old, not quite long enough to be a beard, but still an extremely attractive look for him. The light coming through the door caught on his face, highlighting his stubble and revealing more than a few ginger-colored hairs.

_"Oh… yes"_ she'd replied, finally coming back to herself.

_"Mom! What happened?"_ Henry had asked, coming through the door with a box of his own things.

_"Nothing dire, I assure you,"_ her new neighbor had replied as he stood and offered her his hand. _"Killian Jones, pleased to meet you. I assume you must be moving into the apartment upstairs. Emma and Henry, right?"_

_"Yes,"_ Emma had responded, suddenly wary. How did he know their names?

_"Killian! There you are,"_ Mary Margaret had called out as she stepped through the door. _"Whoa,"_ she added as she took in the scene, _"what happened here?"_

_"I bumped into him, I think_."

_"Okay, well, let's get this stuff picked up."_ Her new landlord bent over and began collecting the various items that had gone flying. _"I see you've met Killian,"_ she added, placing a few utensils into the now overturned box _. "I stopped by yesterday and let him know you guys were moving in."_

Mary Margaret, after unknowingly calming Emma's anxiety, convinced Killian to help them complete the move-in.

Almost immediately, Emma and Killian struck up a good friendship. He worked at a nearby bar, The Rabbit Hole, which he co-owned with his brother. Emma often found herself visiting Killian there on nights where Henry was sleeping over at his dad's house. That was where she met the other Jones brother, Liam, and his wife, Elsa. Emma took an instant liking to Elsa, and they became fast friends. As a natural result, she ended up spending a lot of time at Liam and Elsa's house, thereby seeing Killian even more frequently.

Over the last six months, she'd become close to Killian and had come to think of him as one of the best friends she'd ever had. There were more than a few romantic thoughts about him, but Emma refused to act on them. She didn't want to mess up their friendship, and she especially didn't want to get involved with a neighbor.

"Emma?" Killian asked, bringing her back to herself. She looked down and saw that she'd finished her rum while lost in thought.

"Can I have another?"

Killian smiled and grabbed the bottle to refill her glass. "Was tonight so bad that you lost yourself in thought while trying to figure out what to tell me?"

She chuckled nervously, afraid to tell him that her thoughts were actually about how she'd rather have been with him than anywhere else. Straightening her shoulders, she met his gaze, determined to be the master of her feelings. "No, nothing like that. It's just… well, I finally agreed to let Walsh take me on a date."

§§§§§§§§§§

Killian felt his heart stop at her words. She'd been on a date? Although the context led him to believe she hadn't had the best time out, he couldn't stop the jealous streak that coursed through his veins. What he wouldn't give to go on a date with Emma Swan, the woman of his dreams.

He'd been stunned by her from the moment they met, when she crashed into him in the entryway of their building. The way the morning sunshine illuminated her golden hair made her appear like an angel, but what truly did him in was the way she looked at him when their gazes met. He was mesmerized by her shining green eyes, creamy skin, and high cheekbones, but her expression was guarded, showing him a strong woman who would broker no bullshit. And few things were more attractive to Killian Jones than a strong woman.

As he got to know Emma and Henry better, he found himself falling hopelessly in love with them both. Henry was a wonderful child: curious, friendly, and smart as a whip. And Emma, once he got past her tough exterior, was one of the kindest and most genuine people he'd ever met. Emma cared deeply for the wellbeing of others, sometimes to the detriment of her own health, and Killian found his life's purpose lately was helping to make her life easier.

Despite the fact that she'd been set up on a few dates, he had sincerely hoped he and Emma could begin explore what he was certain was a mutual attraction. He wasn't oblivious; he saw how she looked at him when she thought no one was watching. But Killian also knew that Emma had to be the one to make the first move. For the last six months he'd been waiting for her to do so, but nothing had happened yet.

And now she was letting that simpering simian Walsh take her out. It was almost too much to bear.

He coughed to clear his throat. "I take it the date didn't go so well?"

"I mean… it wasn't the worst date I've ever been on, but definitely in the top five."

"What made it so terrible?"

"Well, for starters, he took me to Granny's."

"You love Granny's," Killian countered, remembering fondly the meal there he'd shared with her and Henry not even a week ago.

"I do, but not for a date. Granny's is where you go for family dinners. The place doesn't exactly scream romance."

"Don't let the Lady Lucas hear you criticizing her establishment," he admonished, while mentally filed away that little tidbit for future reference. "What else made the date bad?"

"He was just _boring,_ " Emma bemoaned. "He spent the majority of the time talking about his store and why he decided to start a furniture business, and how it was booming and how he made so much money on Etsy and blah, blah blah, blah blah. He and I have nothing in common." She drained her glass as if she were trying to wash away the very mention of him.

"Why did you agree to the date?" Killian refilled her glass as he spoke, refusing to make eye contact.

"I don't know… because he kept pestering me. And because he's so different from guys I usually go for. I thought maybe I'd have better luck with someone I normally wouldn't look at twice. And also this town is desperately lacking eligible men."

Killian couldn't help himself. "There's really no one more eligible than Mr. Ozman the furniture maker?" He lifted his eyebrows and threw her a wry smile.

"Well… yeah," she said, looking away as she took another sip. "I mean, there are maybe men in town that are more eligible, but they're not options for me."

"No one?"

"No!" she said, slamming her fist on the counter next to her nearly empty drink. "Pour me another, please."

"You're knocking those back rather fast, Swan. Are you sure you don't want some water?"

"Nope. I'm good with my rum. Fill 'er up barkeep!" She gave him a flirty smile, and, god help him, he couldn't deny her anything. The bar was empty, and entertaining Emma made the time pass by faster. He poured her another measure and set the bottle on the counter behind him.

By the time she finished her fourth glass, she was quite inebriated, as evidenced by her constant talking. Emma Swan was normally very stoic, but get a few drinks in her and she became a chatterbox. Killian surmised that she must have had a few beers at Granny's before she made her way to the bar.

"I mean, what even is this town?" she asked as she waved her hand in the air. "There are less than 3,000 people living here! That's so tiny! You know how many people Tallahassee has? 191,000! That's like six… sixty… you know, it's just a fuck ton more people, that's what it is!"

"Alright Swan," he said, walking around the bar to join her at her side, "I believe you've had enough. Why don't you come sit in my office while I wrap a few things up and then I'll walk you home?"

She stood and didn't protest as he grabbed her things and escorted her toward the back, but she also continued talking. "And the weather… what the hell is up with this weather? I've been here six months, and it's been cold as balls, but there's no fucking snow! That's not right! I haven't seen a good snowfall in more than a decade. If I have to deal with this cold weather, I at least deserve to see some damned snow, right?"

"Couldn't agree with you more, love." He settled her in his office chair and leaned over her slightly to grab the keys from their hook on the wall.

Emma smiled and blushed when he did so, but mercifully her mouth remained closed. He departed the office and went about closing up the few remainings items in the bar before returning.

"Ready love?" he asked as he stepped over the threshold twenty minutes later. He paused as he looked down and saw that she was fast asleep, her head pillowed on her arms as she leaned over his desk. Smiling, he stepped over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Emma? Love? It's time to go home."

She awoke with a groan. "Tired…" she mumbled into her bicep.

"I know darling. But we are only a few steps from home. You will be glad in the morning when you wake up in your bed rather than with a sore neck from sleeping on my desk."

"You're right," she said, sitting up. "Besides," she said with a yawn, "there are other bedroom things I'd like to do on this desk." She seemed to realize what she said a moment too late and looked up at him in shock, her faced flushing a deep red.

Ever the gentleman, Killian chose to ignore her words. He picked up her coat and motioned for her to stand up. She did so reluctantly, but he was able to help her into the garment and get it buttoned up. He looked warily at her shoes. There may not be snow on the ground, but there was still ice and he wasn't sure how he felt about her walking on slippery roads in four-inch heels.

Emma recognized where he was looking and stomped her foot defiantly. "I'll be fine, Jones," she said, reading his mind. "Let's go."

Killian set the alarm and locked up the building. Once everything was secure, he turned to see Emma leaning against the brick wall and staring at him unevenly. He smiled and grabbed her hand, threading it through his arm. They proceeded to walk the two blocks it would take to get to their apartment building.

As they walked along, he looked up at the sky and had to do a double take. Sure enough, flakes were starting to fall. Emma seemed oblivious, so he shook her hand a bit. "Look up."

She turned her head skyward and her face broke out in a grin so radiant it could outshine the moon. "Snow!" she squealed, pulling away from him and spinning in a circle. "I haven't seen snow since I was a kid!" She tilted her head further back and opened her mouth wide to catch a few flakes. Her pure, childlike joy warmed his heart.

"Finally!" she cried out, spinning once more. She stopped suddenly, dropping her chin and giving him a sultry look. Sauntering over, she grabbed onto the lapels of his jacket. "Aren't you happy for the snow?" she whispered, her mouth mere inches from his own.

"I'm happy to see you so happy, love," he replied, beaming down at her.

Emma stared into his eyes a moment longer before she surged forward and captured his lips with her own. The kiss caught him off guard, but he'd wanted it too long to push her away now. He returned the embrace, capturing her upper lip between his own and sucking gently. She moaned and opened her mouth wider, moving her hands to grab the back of his head and deepen the kiss. Time stopped in that moment, the only sound being their short breaths as they desperately tried to keep going.

Finally it became too much and she pulled away, once more holding onto his lapels and resting her forehead against his. They both gulped in deep breaths of air, the cold stinging their lungs.

Killian came back to himself and abruptly reared his head back as he recalled her drunken state. "Emma… I shouldn't have-"

"Don't," she interrupted, pressing a finger to his lips. "Don't apologize for what was the greatest kiss of my life. I may be drunk, but not drunk enough to kiss you against my will. I fully and totally consented to it, and I'd gladly do it again."

"Truly, you don't know how much of a relief it is to hear that." She smiled and lifted up on her toes to kiss him again, but he dodged her. "I'd still rather we waited for a repeat performance until after you've slept it off."

"Fine," she grunted, releasing him and stomping ahead a few paces. "Killian Jones, the gentleman, everyone!" She swung her arms around to gesture at him Vanna White-style. "Step right up and see it for yourself! A man who doesn't want to take advantage of a drunk woman who is dying to jump his bones! Truly a marvel!"

She was hurt, he could see that clear as day, but he would not relent. He quickened his pace and caught up just as her feet slipped out from underneath and she went tumbling to the ground. "Damnit!" she yelled as she struggled to pick herself up. "I'm such a klutz. No wonder you don't want me."

"Now wait a damn minute!" He raised his voice to stop her drunken spiral. "I never said that." Effortlessly he lifted her back to her feet, steadying her with his hands on her shoulders. "I've wanted you since the moment I met you." His eyes pleaded with her as he spoke. "I just don't want you to have any chance to regret things between us."

Emma looked down with a huff. "You are such a… a…" she lifted her eyes once more and her gaze suddenly softened. "You're a good guy, Killian Jones."

He smirked at her. "Come on, let's go home." He pulled her into his side and continued their trek.

§§§§§§§§§§

The sunlight pouring through the window was blinding and Emma groaned, pulling her pillow over her face. She tried in vain to will her blistering headache to go away, thanking the fates that Henry was staying with Neal one more night, and she could stay at home and nurse her hangover while avoiding the world in the process.

She snuggled deeper into the plush bedding as her awareness slowly returned. Her eyes were still firmly closed, but she began to recognize the smell of the bedding. There was the distinct scent of _man_ surrounding her. She ran a hand along the sheets and could feel they were made of a very tight weave, much nicer than her own. And the comforter was infinitely warmer. She'd have to make note of the brand so she could buy a proper one, rather than the light quilt she'd been using that only worked in Florida winters.

Taking another deep inhale, Emma realized she knew that scent. It was Killian's smell. Making a quick check, she found that, rather wearing her own clothes, she was dressed in a men's t-shirt and boxers. She groaned again and threw her arm over her pillow-covered head. What had they done last night?

"Good morning love," Killian said as he stepped into the room. There was the sound of a thunk, followed by the aroma of coffee, indicating that he'd brought her a mug of the amazing brew he liked to make in his french press. "How do you feel?"

"Lower your voice!" she hissed. His volume was not loud, but in light of her pounding headache, he may as well have been yelling. Taking a deep breath, she slowly peeled the pillow away from her face, keeping her eyes squinted while they adjusted to the light. Once she sat up Killian offered her a bottle of water and two ibuprofen. She smiled at him gratefully and took the painkillers, downing half the water with them.

"I'm sorry I was so drunk you couldn't even get me up the stairs."

"You were nearly asleep by the time we made it to building. I figured it would be easier to have you rest here."

"What happened? What did I do?"

He grimaced. "Do you remember any of it?"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying hard to clear her mind and recall what happened just a few hours ago. It all came back in a flash. "I kissed you."

"Aye," he responded, reaching over and handing her the coffee mug.

Emma took a fortifying sip, enjoying the taste of the rich brew doctored with cream and sugar just how she liked it. They sat in silence for a moment, Killian watching Emma while she watched her cup of coffee.

"Do you regret it?" he asked, finally breaking the tension.

She took another deep breath before peering up to meet his eyes. "No. I don't."

"Is it something you'd like to do again?"

She looked pensive for a moment longer before cracking a smile. "Yes, I want to kiss you again, Killian." He began to lean forward, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Not yet, though. I'd like to shower and brush my teeth first."

He smirked in response. "I think you'll find, Swan, that I am an infinitely patient man."

Their flirty banter, along with the water, painkillers, and coffee, had Emma feeling ten times better than when she'd woken up only moments ago. She tilted her head and looked at him coquettishly. "I think you'll find, Jones, that I am _not_ a patient woman. Give me thirty minutes to get cleaned up, and then I'm gonna come back down here and rock your world."

"Oh, there will be coming, alright."

Emma broke into a full cackle at his words. "Seriously? I know you have better game than that, Jones."

"Go get cleaned up, darling, and then you can find out."

Emma practically leapt out of the bed, grabbing her clutch and racing upstairs. She showered quickly, but made sure to take a few moments for some body hair removal. The shower helped to shake off the last vestiges of her hangover. Standing in front of her closet, wrapped in only her plush navy blue bathrobe, she contemplated what the wear when there was a knock on the front door. She groaned at the intrusion, mourning the potential loss of time alone with Killian, before tightening her robe and moving to answer the knock.

She opened the door to find Killian standing there, looking sinfully sexy in a pair of low-slung jeans and a loose t-shirt. He stared down at her preditorially. "Swan," he breathed before stepping into her space and capturing her mouth with his own.

Emma stepped back and he followed, slamming the door and locking it behind them. He then spun their bodies, pinning her to the wall as his lips traveled down her jaw. "Not that I'm complaining," she said, pausing to moan wantonly, "but I thought we were going to do this at your place."

"I guess I'm not as patient as I claim to be," he replied, tracing her collarbone with his tongue. "Take this off," he commanded, tugging at her robe, and she hurried to comply. Her hands fumbled with the belt for a moment before it fell open, revealing her naked body. He stepped back and admired her as she squirmed under his scrutiny. "Gorgeous," he breathed before pushing the robe off her shoulders.

The cold air on her heated skin was a shock. Emma silently thanked herself for deciding not to wash her hair this morning. She could only imagine how much colder she'd feel with wet hair dripping down her back.

His hands warmed her body as they roamed over her breasts, across her stomach, and around to her rear before encouraging her to spread her legs and wrap them around his hips. With her core pressed to his own, he ground their bodies together while his mouth dove down to take a hardened pink nipple between his lips. Emma hissed at the sensation of his warm mouth on the stiffened peak, speeding up the motions of her pelvis. She could feel the erection underneath his jeans, and the combination of it and the ridge of his fly gave her just the right amount of pressure on her clit. She'd been so worked up thinking about him in the shower that it only took a few more minutes until she felt the first blush of her orgasm wash over her body.

"Oh my god… Killian… I'm gonna… I'm… ahhh!" she moaned, throwing her head back and crying out in ecstacy.

"You are so bloody beautiful, Swan," he said, gently kissing her as she came down from her high.

"Your turn," she said in a rush, placing her legs back down on the ground. She took a moment to steady herself before putting her hands on his shoulders and making to turn them.

"No, Emma," he said, his voice commanding. "I'm in charge right now, and you will do as I say. Go sit on the bed, on your knees."

Emma shivered, and not from the cold air in the room. "Yes sir," she replied breathily before complying with his order. When she was positioned how he wanted, he walked over and stood at the foot of the bed, removing his shirt and jeans until he stood before her in all his naked glory. She bit her lip as she looked up at him.

"See something you like, darling?" he asked, wrapping his long fingers around his cock and pumping slowly.

"Mmmm… yes sir," she moaned.

He crawled on the bed, placing his knees on either side of her hips. His hand slid down and lightly grazed her outer lips before he slid two fingers inside her. "Bloody fuck you're wet," he groaned. He pumped his fingers two more times before removing them and spreading some of the moisture on his cock. "Where do you keep your condoms, love?"

"I don't have any," she breathed. "The ones I had were expired and I threw them out before the move."

"Then it's a good thing I came prepared," he replied with a chuckle. He stood up and grabbed his jeans, extracting a foil square. Quickly sheathing his length, he slid back onto the bed, this time behind her, and wrapped his hands around her waist. With a squeeze of his hips he encouraged her to lift herself so he could position his aching cock just below her entrance. After a torturously slow few seconds, she sank all the way down.

They both moaned when he bottomed out. The feeling of being full was almost too much. His hands wandered, one landing on her breast and the other slipping down to her clit. He rubbed it in ever tightening circles before pushing her body forward, changing their position to doggy style as he pumped his hips faster. Emma cried out at the quickened pace of his fingers, and she once again felt the tinglings of an orgasm. They continued for a moment longer before, all at once, she was hit with another flood of sensation. She cried out and squeezed him tight, her release triggering his own. The room was filled with their cries as they both took their pleasure.

They collapsed onto the bed, Killian pulling her to him so that her back lined up with his front. They both panted heavily as their heart rates slowed. Once they were each more composed, Emma sighed contentedly.

"I guess I should be grateful for rum and the snow finally giving me the courage I needed to make a move."

"If you aren't, then I will be grateful enough for the both of us."

She smiled and lightly slapped his arm before settling more into his embrace.

"I am curious about one thing," he said a moment later.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"If it took rum and snow for that to happen, what will it take for you to act on the urge to do those 'other bedroom things' in my office you mentioned last night?"

Emma blushed momentarily before smiling to herself. "You'll just need to wait to find out."

**Author's Note:**

> Come and say hi on Tumblr! @branlovestowrite


End file.
